


The End of Women

by GreyJediArchives



Category: apocalypse - Fandom
Genre: Action & Romance, Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Apocalypse, Apocalyptic, Captivity, End of the World, Escape, Eventual Romance, F/M, Forbidden Love, Government Experimentation, Possessive Behavior, Protective Siblings, Rape, Romance, Tragic Romance, Vegetarians & Vegans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-17 17:40:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18103295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyJediArchives/pseuds/GreyJediArchives
Summary: In an apocalyptic world in which women are dying while men are unaffected, a young woman is torn from her family and held in a government compound, where she is forced to help repopulate the Earth. She unexpectedly meets a man she can’t forget about, and they fall in love despite the rules. What they discover through their love could possibly save humanity.





	1. Chapter 1

It’s unfortunate that we never appreciate what we have until it’s gone. I never take anything for granted anymore. Looking back on my life before, I had so much to be thankful for.  
I was raised in quite the progressive household. My father raised me to be a strong woman, always drilling it into my head that I can do anything I dream of. My eco-crazy dad also only allowed us to eat vegan and drink well water. It was partly for our health, partly for the environment, but I never questioned it. If any one of those factors was different, I could be dead.  
My mother worked full time as an electrical engineer, and my father stayed home full time to take care of my little brother, Elijah, and me. I would argue that my father had the harder job. We lived on the beautiful tourist attraction that is Oahu, Hawaii. I was attending one of the most prestigious private schools. My mind was set on getting off the island to go to college. Little did I know, later in life I would dream of returning to Oahu to my annoying little brother, work-consumed mother, and overbearing father. I took them for granted. Now they’re all gone, and there’s no way I’ll ever get back to my home. 

——————————

I remember in perfect clarity the first time I ever heard the word Diethylstilbestrol, or DES for short. It was a Friday, and I had just returned home from taking my midterm exams. I was chatting away to my mom about how well I did and how I figured out some of the tougher science questions. She feigned interest for a minute, but I saw through her act when she just started nodding and had turned her eyes toward the TV. I’m known to have a bit of a temper. Just as I opened my mouth to spew some brash statement about how little she cares about my success, my mom shushed me and unmuted the TV. “Shush, Keola, listen to this.” A fire erupted inside me, and I no longer held back the flames. “Could you just listen to ME for one second instead of the stupid news?!?” This earned me a stern sideways glare. “You can tell me all about it in a minute. This is important. They’re talking about the Diethylstilbestrol scandal.” I stomped off to my room, making sure she could feel my overwhelming anger through my loud footsteps. Before slamming my door I screamed “it’s good to know FREAKING diethyl-sta-bustrahl is more important than your daughter!” At the time, I had no idea what I was talking about. 

——————————

The end of the world for me did not go how I expected it to. In the movies, it happens all at once. It’s a visible danger. It doesn’t creep up on you slowly. But in real life, it did occur gradually. It was hard to grasp at first, difficult to see.  
It started with news reports. Doctors reported that endometrial cancer rates were up 200%. Breast cancer rates were up 400%. Miscarriages were up 150%. No one could explain it at first. All we knew was that women were dying at alarming rates, but men were seemingly unaffected. Half the population of women was gone in 2 months. I know because I remember on the day of my high school graduation, I came home to the news reporting 50% of the female population was dead. What I don’t understand is why it took so long for them to figure out the cause. Scientists knew it was hormonal in nature, that it only affected the systems of women and not men. I guess why it took so long for them to uncover it was because the company that caused it covered the whole thing up and destroyed evidence. No one wants to be revealed as the killer of half the world’s women. It was a research and development company that worked for the meat industry. They altered Diethylstilbestrol and found it quadrupled the growth and productivity of livestock. This company knew the government would never approve the synthetic hormone, so they sold it under the table to the largest livestock company in the U.S. They also went to Brazil and the European Union, claiming that the hormone was safe. Most of the livestock industry injected the Diethylstilbestrol into their animals, or laced the feed with it. The people then ate the meat and dairy and eggs. The hormone entered their system. Some of it left their system through urine and then entered the water supply. Once Diethylstilbestrol infiltrated the water supply, it was over. Everyone had DES in their system.  
That’s another thing I’m grateful for that I wasn’t before. If my eco-crazy dad hadn’t guided our family to eat vegan and drink well water, I would be dead. DES would have entered my system and caused cancer to rapidly develop and kill me. I would be dead just like 85% of the female population.  
Despite the monumental amount of deaths, society remained relatively normal for the first 2.5 months. They grieved and had a cloud of gloom hanging over their heads, but people still went to work. I still went to school until I graduated. The false normalcy all changed when the U.S. government decided to get involved and basically threw away the bill of rights. The news started to report women going missing. One family that was interviewed said a swat team came in and took their mother. After about a day and 20 different cases of missing women reported on the news, all hell broke loose. Men started having fights in the streets and gangs started forming. Gangs would raid houses at organized times, searching for women. Women were few and far between. As a rare commodity, men started seeing us as objects solely for producing babies and as a place to stick their dick. Don’t ask me how the male brain works, but it seemed like men lost it without women. Then they went psycho when they discovered the government was taking the last surviving women. That’s why they started forming gangs to raid homes and find the remaining women of the world. My family watched this happening around us with overwhelming fear. My dad decided to implement some precautions. After the day when society fell apart and the raids began, my dad made a hiding spot under the floor. I haven’t had to use it yet, but that was only yesterday. 

——————————

Today, I wake up with a foggy head. My body feels like bricks weighing me down against the comfort of my bed. For a second, I forget everything that’s happened. The birds are still chirping outside like everything’s normal. But then it all comes back to the surface of my mind. I sit up with a groan. There’s no way life or society will be the same after yesterday. For the first 30 minutes of the day, I pretend it is the same.  
I walk to my bathroom and brush my teeth with the odd tasting well water. I used to complain about the metallic, musty taste. Now I know it’s the very thing that has saved me. That and not eating animal products. From the bathroom, I trudge over to the kitchen where my dad is making roasted potatoes for breakfast. “Mmmm, smells good Daddy.” He gives the pan a big toss and the potatoes go flying only to land back on the pan. He then winks and says in his gruff morning voice “good morning, Keola.” I etch this memory into my brain. Now that society is in shambles, I never know when my last moments with my dad will occur. Elijah hears us talking and comes racing out of his cars themed bedroom wearing a full on Spider-Man suit. I catch him and reel him in for a hug. “Aren’t you a little old for the spider suit?” He’s only 9, but I still like to tease him. Elijah’s nose scrunches up in offense. “No! It makes me brave. I can protect us if I’m dressed like a superhero.” This takes my breath away for a second. The world is so screwed up that my innocent little brother thinks he needs to protect us at such a young age. “Thanks kid, but we can look out for each other, ok? The only person you need to protect is yourself.” He lifts his chin in a defiant manner. Luckily, we drop the subject when we hear the sound of the burner turning off and my dad calling “breakfast is ready! Keola, go tell your mother to come eat.” My stomach protests the command loudly. Following orders, I rush to my parents bedroom only to find... no one there. A twinge of worry creeps into my mind. I check their bathroom next. No mom. I rush to the laundry room. Not there either. I yell out to my dad as I run back to the kitchen. “Daddy! I can’t find Mom!” He looks up at me in alarm. I had never seen fear like that on my fathers face before. An icy glaze covers his widened eyes and his mouth parts to draw in extra oxygen. It takes him a second of stiff contemplation before he says something.  
“Keola, go in the hiding spot. Elijah, go hide under your bed. Neither of you make a sound. Elijah, if anyone finds you, you don’t have a sister.” Elijah and I both nod solemnly before taking off in opposite directions. I lower myself into the hiding spot beneath the floor. Just as I pull the plank down back over my head, I see my dad open our front door. I sit there squished into a tight ball with no light and little air. I hear the front door close. There’s no sound in the house for about 2 minutes. Then I hear the door open, then shut. Two sets of footsteps echo around the quiet house. I feel someone squat down over my hiding spot. Five knocks vibrate the plank about my head. Two hard knocks followed by three soft ones. It’s my dad.  
I push open the plank and rise up from my hole under the floor. My mom and dad stand before me. I’m happy to see them alive, but I can clearly see the worry in their faces. I meet both of their gazes, waiting for one of them to say something. My patience wears thin. “What is it?” My dad turns his head down and rubs the bridge of his nose, a motion he often does when stressed or disappointed. My mom’s expression flips to one of guilt. “I’m so sorry. I just wanted to go outside to water the flowers. It was so early, I didn’t think anyone was out. I just wanted to get some fresh air...” she trails off with a sigh. I impatiently pester her. “So? What happened?” My dad interjects. “I went outside to get her. Just as we were about to come back inside, a car drove by. It was a gang. They yelled out some offensive things about your mother. I told them we don’t want any trouble, asked them to please leave us. They drove off, but I could tell by the look in his eyes. They’re not done with us.” A knife of fear stabs my heart. I’ve had a pretty cushy life up until now. The closest I’ve come to danger was being catcalled in parking lots. The thought of a gang breaking into my house to kidnap me or do unspeakable things to me or my mother terrifies me. I don’t even think about what would happen to my father or Elijah. My hands start shaking and I go to sit down in the kitchen. The potatoes are now cold, but I’ve lost my appetite anyways. After a moment of reeling myself back in, I start to think logically again. “Is there anything we can do? I don’t think our doors will hold them back. Can we call the police?” This whole situation is one big uncertainty. My dad clears his throat. “I’m not sure. I don’t know who’s on our side.” Mom offers an idea to ease my fear, which is really all I was wanting. “We can barricade the doors. It will at least give us time to escape or hide. Keola, go pack two bags for you and Elijah in case we have to leave unexpectedly.” I nod my head, thankful to be given something to do.  
I find Elijah still tucked under his bed. “Hey kid. Let’s pack you a bag. We might be going somewhere.” Elijah perks his head up. He always loves trips, no matter the circumstances.  
I finish packing the bags in no time. All the while, Elijah and I can hear the sound of mom and dad piling furniture against the doors. Elijah is normally not like me, overfilling with questions and curious as I am. He usually sits back in silence and observes rather than asks or intervenes. Yet, with nothing to do but sit on his bed and think, he asks me a question I struggle to answer. “Is something bad going to happen to us?” In this moment, I don’t know if I should be honest with him or not. Being honest might prepare him for what’s to come, but comforting him is my natural instinct. I go with a grey area in the end. “I don’t know, kid. I sure hope not.” He appears unsatisfied with my answer. I’m not willing to give him something else to be afraid of.  
Luckily, my family made it through the day with no sign of any gang. It helps that we make sure the house appears unoccupied. We spent the whole day attempting to pretend there wasn’t an imminent threat looming over us. Instead, we enjoyed board games and our favorite meals. I lie in bed, thinking about the moments with my family I treasured today. In my head, I know they are fleeting. I drift asleep with that dark thought a centerfold in my mind.  
I’m jarred awake later that night to a loud knocking. As I catch my bearings, I note that it is still pitch black. There’s an empty silence for a few seconds before I hear the loud knocking again. I hop out of bed and scurry to Elijah’s room. Shaking him awake, I cover his mouth with my hand so he knows to be quiet. I take his hand then start to tip toe to my parents room. Half way there, I hear a man’s voice yell by the front door “I know you’re in there! We just want a little taste of your woman.” A split second later, my parents’ bedroom door creaks open. My mother’s face is coated in fear. She pushes Elijah towards his hiding spot under his bed. I fold myself into my spot under the floor. My heart is racing from fear. I try to calm my breathing so they’re less likely to hear me. After a few second, my ears can hardly pick up any sound. My dad’s voice breaks the silence. “Please just leave us alone! We’ll do anything!” I can hear the desperation in his please. The resounding answer makes my skin crawl. “The only thing I want from you is to explore that sexy pussy you have there.” My pulse quickens. The calm I worked for vanishes. I don’t hear anything for a moment until I hear a sound that terrifies me. The furniture blocking the door is being moved. “That’s it,” the man calls. “I’ll spare your life if you comply.” I start to realize what’s happening. My mom is going to sacrifice herself for Elijah and me. If she hides, they’ll break in and search everywhere for her, potentially finding us. If she runs, they’ll probably catch her and if not they’ll expect that she hid and they’ll search everywhere, finding Elijah and me. Silent tears start streaming down my cheeks. I never cry, but my mom is about to give herself up to a gang of men who will do who knows what to her. Guilt falls upon me like a thick blanket. I question if I am worthy of her sacrifice. I shake the thought away. By doing this, she is saving Elijah too. Elijah is the only thing that keeps me from doing something stupid. I need to remain hidden to take care of Elijah if something happens to my parents. After what feels like a short burst of time, the sound of moving furniture halts. I suspect in the moment of silence that follows my parents are embracing each other. By the next moment, I hear the lock turn. The door opens. Then a gun shot shatters my ears. My hand covering my mouth barely muffles my sobs enough. I try to contain myself, but I know my parents did not have a gun. My mom’s heart broken cries confirm my fears. My father has just been shot. The man from the door barks out “Let’s go. I’ll get her in the car. You two have five minutes to check the rest of the house.” My mother’s cries grow fainter as she is dragged away. Footsteps enter the house. I pray that they won’t check under Elijah’s bed. Thankfully, my prayers are answered. It’s obvious to me that the two men in the house are idiots. I hear them do a quick lap through the house. They then proceed to raid our kitchen of alcohol. I hear the cork burst as they open a bottle. A man’s nasally voice says “cheers. To a good night of screwing a live woman.” A clank follows. It takes everything in me to keep from jumping out of hiding and strangling them. The stupid, hot-headed part of me likely would have if it wasn’t for Elijah. The men wait out the five minutes until they are beckoned to go outside. Thankfully, they shut the door behind them.  
I wait an additional five minutes without hearing anything before climbing out of my hiding spot. I immediately lean over my dad to check his pulse. Nothing. Sobs wrack my body as I grieve my father. I’m not sure how long I stay like that, but I’m wrenched out of my trance when Elijah hugs me. This forces me to pull myself together. I throw away my emotions for the time being to comfort Elijah. I gaze into his tear-filled eyes. “It’s just the two of us now. We have to protect each other.” Elijah nods mutely. “You can go back to bed if you want, but we have to live differently now. You can’t make any sound, ok? No one can know we live here.” Elijah nods again. I worry that this has permanently scarred him. My worry subsides when Elijah finally speaks. “Can I sleep with you tonight?” I pull him into an embrace. “Yes, of course.”  
I don’t fall asleep that night, cradling Elijah in my arms wide awake until the sun comes up. All I can think of is my father’s dead body in the other room.


	2. Captivity

After the night of my father’s death and my mother’s abduction, Elijah and I pour ourselves into every task we can find. We clean up the entry way and bury my father’s body. I say my goodbyes to the man who raised me. I internally say my goodbyes to my mother, because she’s as good as dead. After that, I focus on keeping Elijah and myself happy and alive. We begin to start a routine. It helps distract us from the reality of our world. Elijah and I start every day with a small cup of cereal for breakfast. We ration the food to try to extend it for as long as possible. I don’t want to think about the day when we will have to leave the house to find food. After breakfast, we tend to my father’s garden. It’s not very big, but it’s something. Elijah then checks on the solar panels on the roof. He always took after my mother in that he is logical and has a mechanical brain. I, on the other hand, am much more right brained like my father.  
Elijah and I skip lunch and don’t eat until the afternoon for more of a linner, as we call it. We spend some free time playing board games, some free time studying maps to plan out the best route of escape if it comes to it. When Elijah is busy with something, sometimes I peak through a slit in the curtains to study the people wandering around outside. The more information, the better. Elijah always sleeps in my bed with me now. I don’t mind; it offers me comfort too. We follow this routine for about two weeks.  
One day I’m studying the men outside on the street when I hear a high pitched buzzing sound. The buzzing gets louder, and an advanced looking drone comes into view from the right. It hovers over the men on the street for a minute before swiveling around to point at my house. I jerk away from the window. It’s unlikely the drone would spot me peaking through such a small crack in the curtains, but I’m not taking any chances. A minute later, I peak through the curtains again only to find the drone is gone. For some reason, I’m almost disappointed.  
Later that day, Elijah and I eat a linner I scraped together with rice, beans, and cilantro from dad’s garden. It’s very bland, but it’s the best we can do. I’m chatting to him about which one is his favorite Spider-Man movie to lift his mood when we hear something terrifying. Someone knocks on our door. I quickly grab up the bowls, set them out of view, then point Elijah towards the hiding spot under the floor. He shakes his head no. He points at me, then to the hiding spot. I realize he won’t go there without a fight and we don’t have time to lose. Relenting, I point Elijah towards his bedroom then climb in the hiding spot under the floor. I count the seconds until I hear anything else. I got to 218. A loud bang is what comes next. I suspect it’s the door being broken in. Collecting myself, I mentally think about the fact that they might not find us. They might not even know we’re here. There’s still a chance everything will be ok.  
But then the intruder speaks. “I can see you, you know. I have thermal goggles on.” No, no, no, no, no. I chant the mantra in my head. This is not happening. Instead of clamming up with fear, I internally channel all the rage I’ve bottled up inside over the men who killed my father and took my mother. I unleash it as I burst out of the hiding spot and swing at the first thing that moves. My fist makes contact, but as I look up it’s clear it didn’t even phase this guy. He’s much taller than me and has solid muscles, based on how my hand feels after that punch. He’s wearing air forces fatigues, a bullet proof vest, and goggles. He lifts his goggles up and looks me in the eyes with an exasperated expression. I take another punch. It cuts his lip, but he barely even winces. I wouldn’t consider myself weak. This guy is tough as nails. On the third punch, he grabs my wrist and twists me around to pull me against his chest. His arm grips me in a headlock. I struggle against his hold, but it’s useless. The man uses his other hand to reach into a pocket and pull something out. He smothers me with a cloth laced with some kind of chemical. Just as I start to lose consciousness, I see Elijah charge out of his bedroom at the man. 

——————————

The next time I open my eyes, it’s to a blinding light. I’m lying down on a firm, small bed with clean white sheets. The first thing that I notice is that I’m in only a hospital-type gown with no undergarments on. My body is clean, which means someone bathed me. I sit up quickly. Too quickly. My world begins to spin. Once my vision returns to normal, I survey my surroundings. It’s an empty room except for the bed I’m sitting on, one chair, and a small toilet in the corner. Everything is white. There’s a camera in the upper right corner of the room. I stand up slowly and thankfully notice that I don’t feel tender anywhere down there. I’ve never had sex before, so if someone raped me while I was unconscious, I’m pretty sure I would be aware of it. I take slow steps until I reach the corner where the camera is. “Where am I? What did you do with my brother?” Silence is all that answers. The red light on the camera blinks endlessly back at me. My body feels woozy and fatigued, so after a minute of standing I return to my spot on the bed.  
To my surprise, I hear a beeping noise followed by a click of a lock. The door opens. In walks a middle aged man with a beard. He’s probably in his forties if I had to guess. He’s wearing a long white lab coat and he clutches a clipboard to his side. I notice a needle pinned between his hand and the clip board. He extends his free hand to me. “Hello, I’m Dr. Hartzog. I’m sure you’re a little frightened, but there is no need. No one will harm you here.” This doesn’t calm me one bit. I ignore his hand and repeat my questions. “Where am I? What did you do with my brother?” Dr. Hartzog smiles in a way that I think he intends to be reassuring, but it just ends up looking strained. “You’re in a secure government facility in Nevada. Your brother was unharmed, and that’s all that’s important.” My temper flares up and I snap. “Nevada?? You took me to freaking Nevada??? And you expect me to accept that you left my brother ‘unharmed’? He’s a little boy! He’s the only family I have left.” To my dismay, my eyes start to fill with tears. I fight them. Dr. Hartzog gives me a look that does not convey any sympathy. “At least you have family left. You have it much better than others. Now, I need to ask you some questions. Are you going to cooperate?” I glare at the wall and refuse to answer him. Dr. Hartzog flips to the next piece of paper on his clipboard. He clicks his pen, ready to write down information. “What is your full name?” I purse my lips in thought. I don’t really see the harm in revealing this information, and I’d rather the doctor perceive me as a cooperating patient. “Keola James. K-E-O-L-A.” I try to act like I’m not watching his every move. If I could just grab the needle... “when was your birthday?” “June 18th, 2000.” He keeps the needle close by his hand. There’s no way I’m getting it. “When was your last period?” This question makes my blood run cold. Even though it’s a routine question at the doctors office, in this context it doesn’t seem so innocent. I decide to play it safe with my answer. “I don’t remember.” Dr. Hartzog frowns disapprovingly. “Try again.” I match his frown with my own. “What are you going to do if I don’t tell you? Kill me?” “No, Keola, the last thing we will do is kill you. All we’re trying to do here is save the human race. You are a key component of that. Now, let’s make it easier for both of us. Please just tell me when your last period was.” I consider my options briefly. Should I comply to hopefully have a better chance to escape later? Or do I protect one of the only things I have left for myself, my body? I clear my throat uncertainly. “It was about 2 weeks ago.” Dr. Hartzog scribbles this down. “Good. See, that wasn’t so hard. I’ll let you rest for now. Dinner will be brought in for you shortly.” My stomach growls in response. Dinner sounds great. “Dr. Hartzog?” I call just before he opens the door. “Yes?” “Will I ever be allowed out of this room?” Dr. Hartzog gives me a pity smile. “Yes. If you are deemed to not be a danger to yourself or others, you will be allowed out of the room.” I nod in response. Getting out of this room is my new mission. 

——————————

I’m surprised when my dinner comes and instead of being end-of-the-world, freeze-dried astronaut type food as I expected, it comes out looking like the most expensive options at a five star restaurant. I’m also surprised by the little boy who carries the tray in. He looks to be about my brothers age. I smile at him warmly. “Hello. What’s your name?” The little boy blushes a deep red and mutters back “Ethan.” He sets the tray down on the bed then proceeds to reach into a compartment under the bed to pull out a fold up table. It’s metal and stays attached to the base of the bed, extending out beside it. Ethan then transfers the tray from the bed to the table. He turns around to leave. “Wait!” I call out. Ethan whips around with a worried expression on his face. It’s almost as if he expects he’s in trouble. “Do you want to stay in here with me while I eat?” Ethan’s gaze darts to the camera. He hesitates for a moment. “Ummm.... er... sure, I don’t think that will cause any harm.” I pat the bed beside me for him to come sit down. He does in a skittish manner. As I begin to fully appraise the meal before me, I ask “do you know if this is all vegan?” I’m sure they’re not idiots here, not taking any risks with some of the last women on Earth, but you can never be too sure. Ethan lights up when I ask this question. “Yes! It’s all plant based and most of it is grown in our lab!” He glows with passion. I take a big bite of the stew that looks like the main course. It’s full of vegetables and something that tastes a lot like tofu but with extra tenderness and flavor. I make a sound of appraisal. It feels like ages since I’ve had fresh vegetables other than the small selection we grew in my father’s garden. I pick up a roll and offer it to Ethan. “Would you like some?” He’s skin and bones. Ethan hesitates for a second, his eyes darting to the camera again, before he takes the roll and shoves half of it in his mouth. I finish the stew and am moving on to the pile of green beans when I hear the lock click on the door. Dr. Hartzog steps in the room. He doesn’t look at me, but rather, at Ethan. “Ethan. Please leave Ms. James and I alone and report to administration.” I see Ethan’s face pale in response. I’m not exactly sure what it means, but based on Ethan’s reaction, administration isn’t a good thing. I stand up from the bed. “Please Dr. Hartzog, don’t punish Ethan. If this is about me, it’s not his fault. I begged him to stay in here and eat with me. I didn’t know there were any rules.” Dr. Hartzog shifts his disapproving gaze over to me. “No, Keola, you don’t know about the rules. But he does. Ethan, please leave us. I will come find you later.” Ethan quickly leaves the room and the doors slams behind him. My only friend, gone.  
Dr. Hartzog sits in the only chair in the room. He gives me another one of his strained smiles that isn’t genuine. “Please continue eating, Keola. Your blood levels were not optimal when we found you. You need to get your strength back up.” I start eating again, but only because I’m hungry. Not because he told me to. As I chew, Dr. Hartzog launches into a speech I have a feeling he’s given many times before.  
“You’re very lucky we found you. Who knows what would have happened to you if one of those gangs got to you first. You’re safe now in this compound, and we intend to take care of you. But you need to understand something. You are one of about 400,000 women left on this planet. You have a responsibility to the human race to aid in its repopulation. We need you to agree to be artificially inseminated. Based on what you told us, you’re around your optimal time in your cycle to conceive. The procedure is scheduled for tomorrow.” His whole speech confirms my uneasiness about this place. I’m not truly under their protection here. I’m just an object to be used. I get the feeling that if I say no to his request, they will force me anyways. I finally answer after a moment of contemplation. My voice comes out sounding stronger than I expected it to. “I’ll do it. But I have conditions.” Dr. Hartzog’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh? You have conditions for saving humanity?” I try to control my temper around this pompous ass. It’s hard. I barely refrain from an eye roll. “Yes. I want to be given access to leave this room. And I want my brother to be brought here.” Dr. Hartzog sighs. I guess it’s just not in certain people’s nature to enjoy helping others. Still, he concedes. “Ok. You will be allowed limited access out of this room. You will be provided a guard for your protection and he will be with you at all times. Try anything, and you’ll be put back in this room. As for your brother, I cannot promise anything. We will be returning to Hawaii anyways in 5 days, and I will have them check for him. It’s possible he’s dead, and if it’s too difficult to find him, I won’t waste resources on it. But I will send someone in tomorrow to get a description of him from you.” Bile rises in my throat. Who does that? Who suggests to someone that their remaining family member is dead? It takes all of my restraint to grit out “thank you.” Dr. Hartzog picks up my tray and exits the room. Even though I’ve only been awake for a few hours, I have a lot to be worried about for tomorrow, and the idea of Elijah being dead is circulating in my brain, I sleep like a rock that night.


	3. The Procedure

My peaceful sleep is disturbed when I wake up to Dr. Hartzog’s face. “Good morning, Keola. Ready for your procedure?” I rub my eyes, hoping he will disappear. When I open them again, he’s still there. Nope, not a nightmare. Just real life. I remind myself I’m doing this for Elijah. I plaster on a smile I hope mirrors his irritatingly strained smiles. “Yes.” I pull myself out of bed and stare expectantly at the door. Dr. Hartzog grips my elbow and leads me out of my cage. He mentions something to me about getting cleaned up first but I hardly pay attention. I’m too busy observing my surroundings. Outside my door is a long, empty hallway. It looks like a hospital with its bright lights, white tiles, and numerous doors along the hallway. Dr. Hartzog leads me to the right. To my surprise, he begins to describe to me where we are. “This is the women’s corridors. Only doctors, servers, security, and people granted special access are allowed in here.” He leads me to a door blocking off the hallway that he opens with a key card. We enter a brightly lit, quiet stairwell. He takes me up two flights of stairs. “How many women are you keeping here?” Dr. Hartzog scans his keycard at another door, taking us into a hallway. It pretty much all looks the same to me. “We have saved about 200 women. Half of which are not within the age range of conceiving a child. About 25 are infertile. And roughly the other 75 are working to preserve humanity.” This shuts me up. Maybe humanity is more doomed than I thought. Dr. Hartzog stops almost halfway through the hallway. He pushes open the door to our left. Instead of leading me in, he motions me ahead of him. “On the left there’s a door that takes you to a bathroom. There’s a shower where you can clean up. When you’re finished, you can just sit on that bed. Dr. Jennings will be with you shortly.” I look back at him. Even though he annoys me and I don’t like what he’s doing here, he’s familiar to me. “You’re not performing the procedure?” Dr. Hartzog gives me his first real grin. “No. I’m only a psychiatrist. You’ll be fine. Remember, we aren’t going to harm you here.” The fact that he keeps reminding of that puts me on edge. So far, I have complied with them. I’m hoping to not have to find out what happens if I fail to comply. I eagerly enter the bathroom. It feels like forever since I’ve had a warm shower. At least I’m hoping the water is heated. I undress and hop in to see it is. I sigh in relief and let my muscles relax as the hot water runs over me. The soap they put in the shower smells like medicine. When I finally convince myself I can’t stay in the shower forever and prolong the inevitable, I step out onto the cold tile and quickly dry off. My hair is still dripping wet as I sit on the examination chair Dr. Hartzog told me to wait in. I wait for about two minutes before anyone comes. A chubby man with a balding head and thick glasses enters the room. I automatically notice how badly his breath smells. He extends his hand for a handshake. “Hi, I’m Dr. Jennings. You must be Keola James.” I shake his hand, resisting the urge to wipe off the sweat that transferred onto me from his clammy hands in the process. He turns his back on me to begin washing his hands in the sink. That’s a relief. I wipe the moisture onto my hospital gown. “How are you feeling today, Ms. James?” He wipes down his hands and pulls on a pair of gloves. “Fine,” I reply. To be completely honest, I’m scared shitless. I’ve never had sex before, let alone thought about having a baby. Now I’m about to have this doctor stick something inside me so I can grow a baby to repopulate the world. Not how I thought my 19th year on this Earth was going to go. Dr. Jennings takes something out of the fridge and begins fiddling with it out of my view. I strain to see around his rounded body. “Please lie back, Ms. James. Bend your knees and spread your legs open.” I reluctantly do as I’m told. This position feels uncomfortably vulnerable. Especially since they still haven’t provided me with undergarments. I see Dr. Jennings come around to sit on a swivel chair by my feet. I squeeze my eyes shut when he pushes my hospital gown up to my waist. I feel more vulnerable than I have in my entire life. Completely exposed to this stranger. He begins to insert something that feels like a tube inside me. I feel his hot, gross breath fan out on my skin. Then there’s a cold feeling spreading inside me. I suppose that’s the sperm being inserted. I clench my hands into fists. It’s difficult for me to remain in such a vulnerable position with a stranger hovering over me, looking closely at the most intimate physical parts of myself. Eventually I feel the tube being pulled out of me. I unclench my fists in relief. When I go to close my legs Dr. Jennings places his hand on my knee to stop me. I raise my head to look at him questioningly. “I still have to put in the cervical cap.” I rest my head back down and begin to stare at the ceiling. There’s no cracks to count. I feel myself stretch almost painfully as he holds something hard and pushes it inside me. My innocence shines through when I ask “aren’t you worried it could potentially get lost in there?” Dr. Jennings lets out a loud chuckle. It’s a creepy laugh. “No, Ms. James. You will be fine. You can go to the bathroom now and clean up a bit.” I run to the bathroom and dry heave into the toilet. I feel disgusting, like no matter how clean I make myself I will never be clean on the inside again. I sit on the warmth-leaching tile for awhile before I hear a knock at the door. “I hope you’re not trying anything in there, Ms. James.” I stand up and walk over to the door. “No. Just not feeling well.” I say as I open it. Dr. Jennings appraises me and seems to accept my word as truth because he turns around to retreat back into wherever the other door leads. I stand there dumbly. Am I free to go? A second later the main door opens. A man who looks to be in his late twenties steps into the room. He’s dressed exactly as the man who took me was, minus the thermal goggles. “My apologies Ms. James. I was running late but I’m here to escort you back to your room. I’ll be your guard for an indeterminate amount of time. You can call me John.” He has a thick southern accent that I never found attractive before, but somehow it suits him. I stand there mutely for a second more, contemplating if this guard is to be trusted, or how I should behave with him. I decide to be neutral for now. My brain is currently shut down from the experience I just had. “Hi John.” Is all I say. He puts his hand on the small of my back and gestures towards the door. “This way.” I’m so on edge and violated feeling, that I don’t appreciate the contact. Whatever Dr. Jennings put inside me feels uncomfortable as I walk. John guides me back down the hall, down the stairs, then into my same boring room. I count the number of doors on our way to it. There’s 5 doors on the left before you get to mine. John remains in the doorway as I enter the room. I swivel around to look at him as he speaks. “Someone will come in here in about an hour to get your description of your brother. Lunch will be delivered shortly after. Your breakfast is on the table now.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls something out. It looks like a thin, white piece of plastic warped in a circle with a grey dot on it. “Now that you’re free to leave your room, you will need this bracelet. If you ever need something or want to get out, push that button and I will come get you.” John wraps the plastic around my wrist. It fits perfectly, which is unusual since I have smaller than normal wrists. I absorb all of this information, but my brain doesn’t do much processing. I’m still in a slight state of shock. All I can say is “ok, thank you.” in a voice devoid of inflection. John nods awkwardly before ducking out of the room. I turn and sink into my bed like a stone. Food doesn’t sound appetizing, but I force myself to eat some of it. Somehow I manage to keep it down. With a full stomach and an overwhelmed brain, I unknowingly drift into sleep. 

——————————

When I wake, the first thing I notice is the tray of food missing. I hear a knock, clearly the noise that woke me. With my voice thick with sleep I call out “come in.” The door opens slowly. When I see the man who walks in, I’m immediately awake again. He’s insanely attractive with thick brown hair that curls in big waves. His jaw line could probably cut paper and just to contrast it all he has the prettiest set of lips I’ve ever seen on a guy. His deep brown eyes lock onto mine with intensely captivating eye contact that warms my soul. As he comes to a stop near the edge of the bed, he proceeds to slay me with the most adorable grin I’ve ever seen. It’s just a little tilt of his lips, lifting the corner a little, but it draws me in. He’s the most genuine person I’ve seen at this place. Even just by the way he approaches me and acts, I know he doesn’t want to manipulate me or use me. I don’t even think he realizes the effect his good looks have on me. When he speaks, his deep voice penetrates the air. “Hi, I’m Arlen.” I’m disappointed when he doesn’t extend his hand for a handshake. It’s then that I realize his arms are full of a notebook and what looks to be some art supplies. “Hi, Arlen. I’m Keola.” I start to think I like the way our names sound together, but then I mentally slap myself. I’m not a lovesick girl. I need to focus on my priorities here, like getting my brother back. I can’t get reeled in by a gorgeous face attached to a god-like body. Determined from my mental pep talk, I sit in place as Arlen pulls the chair over beside the bed and then extends the table out. I guess it’s the only place he can comfortably draw in here, but my body reacts to his closeness. His breath smells minty and clean, and I catch a whiff of something woodsy smelling as he rakes his fingers through his hair.   
“Alright, lets get started.” He clears his throat and perches a pen over a blank sheet of paper. “What’s his name?” I spell out Elijah’s name for Arlen. “About how tall is he?” I appreciate the fact that Arlen uses present tense when referring to my brother. It’s a small gesture, but to me it’s big. We go through a series of questions until Arlen flips the page over to start sketching an image of Elijah. I describe every detail of his precious face, the image still burned into my memory. I watch intently as Arlen strokes his pen across the paper in swift movements. His brow furrows in concentration and sometimes he pauses to chew on his lip or rake his hair out of his face. At times he stops and perches the pen against the opening of his mouth. When Arlen finishes, he holds the paper up to show me. It’s very realistic. My eyes fill with tears and my lip quivers as I try to hold them in. My brother might be dead. “Hey, it’s ok. Please don’t cry. If I had known you would react like this, maybe I would’ve given him a huge nose just to see you smile.” I smile and swipe away a single tear that escapes. Arlen gently places his hand on mine. The touch of our skin sends a bolt of electricity into me. I startle away. Arlen stands up and starts gathering his things as he apologizes profusely. “I’m so sorry Keola. I shouldn’t have touched you without permission. That was against the rules.” I grab one of his hands to halt his hurried movements. The singe of current between us zaps me again, but this time I realize it’s just pure attraction. “No, please don’t apologize. It was nice. For a moment, it felt like the world was back to being normal again. I pulled away because it just... caught me off guard.” I release Arlen’s hand. He pulls all of his things back into his arms and takes a step back. “Well, I should probably go get this to them.” He seems to pause for a second. “Keola, um, I was wondering, if you’re ok with it, if I could come back tomorrow to sketch you? It’s ok if you don’t want to, it’s just, you don’t meet many new women around here, and you’re so fascinating...” A deep blush colors my cheeks and I avert my eyes shyly. It felt incredibly good to be appreciated, acknowledged in a way that wasn’t just for my value of creating babies. “I’m sorry, it was stupid.” He turns around and starts to walk out. “Wait! No, I would love that. You don’t have to explain yourself. I enjoy your company.” Arlen stabs me with another lop-sided grin over his shoulder. “Ok, I’ll see you tomorrow then. Around the same time.” He steps through the door while staring at me, like he wants to absorb every second of me while he still can. “Ok, see you then.” I echo his words. The door clicks shut behind him. 

——————————

Dr. Jennings comes to my room later that day and removes the cervical cap. It’s not nearly as bad as the insertion, yet it still makes me skin crawl. He also draws a vial of my blood. I would rather have a thousand vials of my blood be drawn over a thousand days than endure another artificial insemination with Dr. Creepy. After he leaves, I lie in my small bed, thinking. I wonder if the artificial insemination worked. I don’t feel any different. It doesn’t feel like there’s a tiny baby growing inside me. Then again, I have no idea what I’m talking about. I have zero experience in this area. Part of me wants to be pregnant. It would mean I wouldn’t have to do the procedure again for quite some time. On the flip side, the idea of becoming a mother terrifies me. There is no right answer. I’m doomed to sit here in my cage of a room, waiting for them to get my brother to safety and to decide what to do with my body. I feel utterly out of control of the whole situation. There’s only one glint of hope in this place, and that’s Arlen.


	4. Promise

The next day I wake up normally. There’s no knock at the door or person looming over me. I wake up like an excited teenage girl for her first date. A plate of breakfast sits beside my bed. It’s piled high with fruit and oatmeal. I scarf it down greedily. I then push the button on my bracelet to call John for the first time. He arrives no more than two minutes later. “Good morning Ms. James.” He drawls in his thick southern accent. I smile up at him. John is growing on me. “Morning John. Is there any way you could take me to a shower this morning?” He opens the door to my room. “Of course. After you.” This time instead of going right, John guides me to turn left. I try to make small talk with him as we walk the empty halls. “John, why do you call me Ms. James? You can call me Keola, you know.” His face seems to freeze over at that question. “No, I can’t. It shows the utmost respect to call someone by their proper title. If I refer to you by your first name, I would be disrespecting you and breaking the rules.” I give a lame response. “Oh,” is all I say. This bit of information intrigues me. Dr. Hartzog calls me Keola. So does Arlen. John stops us in front of a door on the left. “This is the girl’s bathroom. I can’t go in there but I’ll be waiting right outside for you.” I open the door cautiously. Inside are multiple stall doors with showers. I can hear one of them in use. The bathroom is immaculately clean so I don’t really mind that I’m walking around it with bare feet. I slip into the first shower on the right and turn it on. I stand under the incredibly warm water for a minute as I lather my hair with shampoo and wash myself. When I hear the other shower in the bathroom turn off, I rush to condition my hair to finish. I grab the towel in the stall and quickly dry off. When I open the stall door, the other one is still shut. I piddle in front of the mirror and comb through my hair as I wait for someone to emerge from the stall. I want to talk to them, to meet someone female in this place full of males. Finally their stall door creaks open. I turn around to greet them with a smile on my face. “Hi! I’m Keola.” The woman who steps out has a towel wrapped around her. She appears to be in her early thirties. Her blonde hair is dripping wet and extends all the way down to her waist. Her dark eyes are rimmed with shadows and bags as she looks at me uncertainly. “I’m Britney.” Her voice comes out shattered sounding and caked with emotion as if she had just been crying. I start to approach her, hoping to offer comfort. “Are you ok?” She steps away from me and starts walking towards the door as she calls back to me “I’m fine. Mind your own damn business.” This feels like an emotional slap in the face. I was just wanting to relate to someone who knows what I’m going through. I can’t understand why she was so short with me. I walk out of the bathroom to find John leaning against the wall. “Everything go ok in there?” I guess I never thought it through before, but John is probably reporting back every detail of my time with him. “Yep.” As he leads me back to my room I ask him if there’s any way I can get some normal clothes. John tells me he’ll ask for me. He also informs me that I can leave my room and enter the shower room without a keycard, and my plastic bracelet will let me back into my room. I just can’t leave the floor without a key card. John leaves and I sit there patiently in my room, eagerly awaiting Arlen’s arrival.  
After about an hour, I hear a knock at the door and I sit up excitedly. Arlen walks in with a huge grin on his face that I’m sure matches my own. He sits down on the foot of my bed and proceeds to ask me something bizarre. “What have you been doing for the past 30 minutes? Anything unusual?” I give him a weird look. “Nooo I’ve just been... sitting on my bed.” My cheeks heat in embarrassment over my boring and depressing life. “Why?” Arlen gives me a reassuring smile that really does the trick. “I rigged a device that will interfere with the cameras and make it stream the past thirty minutes in a loop. God, your blush is the cutest thing in the world.” This, of course, makes me blush. Arlen reaches up and brushes his fingers over my cheek with a feather like touch. It makes me visibly shiver. He then pulls away and begins unpacking his sketchbook from his bag. “So you’re not just an artist, you’re an engineer, too?” Arlen busies himself with finding a clean sheet of paper and pulling out a pen as he answers. “I’ve always loved taking stuff apart and putting it back together. I graduated from college with a mechanical engineering degree. I had been working for a start-up company near my home in Montana when women started dying. At the first news of it, my dad, who works for the government, got me a job here. I do some engineering jobs around the compound and to make myself even more useful I sketch missing or wanted people. I’ve always had a knack for drawing but I had just channeled it into my design sketches in the past. It wasn’t too hard to switch to people. So now, here I am. What about you?” I shift my focus from his lips to his eyes. “What about me?” Arlen stares back at me in a way I’ve never been looked at before. He absorbs my every movement like he’s trying to make sense of me, to solve me like a puzzle. “What’s your story?” I shift uncomfortably in place. I’ve never enjoyed talking about myself. “I’m from Hawaii, born and raised. I was just graduating high school when the.... deaths... started. My mother and I survived because we were eating vegan and drinking from an isolated water supply that wasn’t recycled waste. Not long after the gangs started forming, my mom was taken by them and they killed my dad while my brother and I hid. They didn’t find us, and we survived a couple of weeks together before the government came and brought me here. My brother’s still out there alone.” Arlen’s face is full of compassion. “I’m so sorry. I’m sure your brother’s smart. He’ll make it out there. And the government will find him.” I give him a half smile because I know he means what he says but I’m not so sure if it’s really true. I attempt to change the topic which I’m sure Arlen notices. “Ok so uh, where do you want me?” My face turns tomato red again as I realize how that sounds. “I mean um, how do you want me to pose for the sketch?” Arlen grins but thankfully he lets it go without teasing me. “Wherever you’re most comfortable. It might take me awhile to get every detail of you perfect.” I chew on my lip nervously. I haven’t had much experience with boys, and Arlen is definitely the most intimidatingly attractive boy I’ve ever seen. I decide to lie back on my bed and fan my hair out behind me. Arlen plays with my hair for a minute, arranging it how he wants it and sending chills through me in the process. He then brushes his touch on my wrists. “Do you mind?” I shake my head no. He could probably do anything to me right now and I wouldn’t mind. He crosses my wrists and lifts my arms so that they’re extended above my head. Arlen studies every detail of me. “Ok. Try to stay in the same spot.” I close my eyes to calm myself down. Seeing Arlen’s gaze raking over my body leaves a trail of fire wherever he looks. It’s almost as if he’s touching me wherever his eyes look. “Can you open your eyes? I can’t sketch you without getting your beautiful eyes.” My eyes flutter open to find him staring right into me. I feel vulnerable, but in a good way. Vulnerable because I’m choosing to be. I lie there like that, Arlen hovering beside me, and his eyes skimming over my body. Eventually he stops sketching then stares at my face for a minute. I meet his eyes and in that moment, I swear we really, truly, see each other. My connection to him grows like a plant just fed water and sunlight. Arlen breaks the moment. “I’m finished. Do you want to see it?” I sit up, reaching out impatiently like a child. Arlen flips the paper around and hands it to me. I study the girl in the picture. She looks like me, but not. It’s not because Arlen is a bad drawer or anything. It’s because she’s glowing with beauty. She still has the same thick dark hair, naturally tanned skin, and clear blue eyes. But there’s an extra glow in her skin, a shimmer in her hair, and a sparkle in her eyes. I realize this is how Arlen perceives me. He sees me as beautiful. All I can say after absorbing it is “wow.” Arlen gifts me with one of his lop-sided grins that reveals his dimples. “Wow? You like it?” I mirror his expression. “Yes. You’re very talented.” For a second I swear I see a tint of pink in Arlen’s cheeks. “Well, it’s not hard when you have such a beautiful model to work with.” I crinkle my nose at his cheesy line. Arlen laughs. “Too cheesy?” I nod my head yes, too embarrassed to use words. When he starts to pack his things back into his backpack, my heart falls. The idea of Arlen leaving makes me miss his company already. “You have to go?” My tone sounds pitiful. I mentally slap myself again. I do that a lot around Arlen. I need to stop being so vulnerable around this boy. He looks up with matching despair. “Yes. I need to be more careful. I’m not supposed to be in here with you.” I pout like a child mad at the rules. Stupid rules. Arlen reaches out his hand and brushes his thumb once over my lips, as if he’s trying to wipe the frown away. His eyes flicker between my eyes and my lips. I swear he’s about to kiss me when he pulls away and retreats to the door. The last thing he says to me before slipping away is “I’ll come back. I promise.”

____________

But he doesn’t. Arlen doesn’t come back the next day, or the one after that, or the one after that. I begin to go crazy thinking about all of the possible explanations for why he hasn’t come yet. On the fourth day of waiting, I get claustrophobic in my room. I push the button for John and wait. John gets there in what feels like five minutes. He looks at me expectantly. “Ms. James?” “Would you mind taking me on a tour of the compound? I’m bored and lonely in here.” John’s eyes flash with surprise. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, Ms. James.” I practically get on my hands and knees begging him. “Please John. I’m so sick of this room.” I look up at him and batt my eyelashes in a way I used to do when I was little to get what I wanted. He finally relents with a sigh. “Ok, but you have to do everything exactly as I tell you to. If you don’t, things could go wrong. We both want the same thing: to keep you safe.” I nod excitedly. “Yes! Yes, I’ll do everything you tell me to.” John eyes me warily. I think he’s already regretting his decision. He takes me to the right and down the same long hallway. We get to the stairwell but this time instead of going up we head down. We climb down one flight of stairs and John pauses. He motions to the door. This is where the medical staff, researchers, security, and servers stay. It’s just like the women’s floor.” I follow him down another flight of stairs. We again pause at the door, but he doesn’t make a move to open it. “This is the housing area for men we are sheltering, young boys, and service workers.” So this is where Arlen lives. We continue down another flight of stairs. “This is where the cafeteria, exercise rooms, library, and lounge areas are located. I can show you if you want.” I bounce a little in place. My extroverted self is badly craving human interaction. “Yes!” John steps around me to the door. As he moves, I notice he reaches down to his gun on his holster and switches off the safety. He turns back around to me with a serious face on with undertones of nerves. “Remember to do everything I say. And just, don’t be bothered by some of the men. It’s best if you ignore them.” Feeding off of how John is acting, I start to get a little nervous. He grips my wrist and pulls me through the door. We step into a library with tall shelves filled with books. I make a mental note to ask John to bring me some books later. The library is nothing special, it’s average at best, but it helps to calm my nerves. Libraries remind me of my life before, when all I cared about was working hard to go to a college off the island. It has the openness I was missing in my small little room. The library is quiet and tranquil. Off in the distance, I hear the chatter of male voices. I walk forward towards the noise. John grabs my arm again and hisses “stay behind me.” This ignites my temper. I force myself to hold it in. If I don’t do as John says, he might never take me down here again. I let John lead me forward through the library. There doesn’t appear to be anyone in here until we get to the entrance. There’s a young boy reading a book in the corner, totally engrossed in it. He looks to be about 12 years old. When he glances up at us, he gasps. His mouth hangs open in an O shape as John leads me out of the library, still gripping my arm. We pass an older man in the hallway. He starts to follow behind us, looking at me like he wants to eat me. I try to ignore him like John told me to. We get closer and closer to the sound of voices until we’re right outside two double doors. John pushes them open. The loud noise created by so many voices talking all at once is a shock to my ears. I’ve only known silence or normal volume talking voices for quite some time. John stops us right by the doors. I guess we’re not going in any further. I take the time to survey my surroundings. The cafeteria is a huge, open room with lots of little round tables and a long buffet line at the right side of the room. Men walk around with trays that appear to have only one item on it and it doesn’t look appetizing at all. It’s just a long, rectangular piece of something that looks like dense, dark brown bread. I wonder what it is or what it tastes like. If I had to guess how many men were in the room, I would say around 300. It’s hard to tell though with all of the hustle and bustle that’s going on. I was never good at guessing amounts anyways. Through the crowd, I spot wavy brown hair and a well-defined back. It’s Arlen, sitting with his back to me. I wonder why he hasn’t come back to my room.  
Somewhere in the crowd someone lets out a catcall in the form of a whistle. I watch as Arlen turns around. We make eye contact across the room. His face morphs into anger. He looks down at John’s hand gripping my arm, then back up at me. I break eye contact, startled by the scary expression I had never seen on Arlen’s face before. The whole cafeteria quiets down until there’s no noise at all. You could hear a pen drop in this room with 300 men, and all of them are staring at me. Then the vulgar comments come at me like spears. “Look at this fresh meat.” “I’d like her as dessert.” “I’m tired of old bones. Can I have a round with you?” “Do you want to repopulate the Earth with me?” I’m horrified. I’ve never been someone to be afraid of attention or public speaking, but being in this room with all of these men yelling vulgar comments at me is one of the most terrifying experiences of my life. John quickly pulls me out of the cafeteria. I struggle to keep up with him as he barrels to the stairwell. He never stops once until we reach my room. Once we do, he switches the safety on his gun back on and visibly relaxes some. Then he turns to me. “Ms. James I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was expecting, bringing someone who looks like you into a room full of men starved of women. I should have known. Please forgive me.” I place my hand a top John’s to comfort him but as soon as I do I regret it. I hope he doesn’t see it as anything more than a friendly gesture, but I think his does. There’s no spark there like when I touch Arlen. I withdraw my hand. “It’s ok. You just did what I asked of you. And I got to see what’s it’s like here. You did nothing wrong.” John’s tortured expression remains on his face, so I guess he doesn’t accept what I said. He leaves the room with that same expression. 

____________

Sometime between lunch and dinner, Arlen bursts into my room. I can’t say I’m ecstatic to see him. He didn’t exactly keep his promise to come see me. And when he did see me in the cafeteria, he looked furious at me. Just as he does now. “What were you thinking?!?” Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth. I decide to be childish and give him the silent treatment. He reaches both his hands up to pull at his hair in frustration. In the process, his shirt lifts to reveal a chiseled v-shape in his muscles that disappears into his pants line. I can’t help but stare, despite being irritated. “God, Keola I cant believe you! Why would you think it’s ok to march out into the men’s area of the compound where there’s men dying to see a woman like you! You walk in and they just drink you up. You were my secret. No one else knew of your beauty or saw your eyes or had seen how cute you look when you blush. You were mine.” Arlen eases out of his anger and into more of a sadness. My heart softens. He wasn’t really mad at me, he was just mad about every other man in the compound seeing me. The caveman like logic in his thinking should have irritated me. I should have told him I can’t deal with someone who treats me like something to possess. But to be completely honest, his possessiveness satisfies me. It feeds my hunger of needing to be wanted by someone. So instead of reprimanding him, I step closer to him. Instead of kicking him out, I clasp his hands in mine. “Arlen, I just wanted to see more of the compound. I was so sick of this room, and you didn’t come visit me...” I watch his face crumple before me. “I wanted to so bad. But I’ve been so busy with work. And whenever I had time, it was too risky to come see you. There was extra security. I promise I tried everything I could.” I can see the truth in his eyes. And I know in my heart Arlen would never lie to me. “About the possessiveness... you can’t keep every man in the world from seeing me. I can’t stay locked up in this room forever. But if you want me Arlen, I’m your’s.” I stare at our joined hands, too nervous to look at his face. He unclasps our hands. My heart starts to break. Arlen cradles my face in his palms and turns me to look up at him. “What?” Hope shines brightly in his eyes. I struggle to find the words again. Rejection is scary. “I’m your’s if you’ll have me.” I watch the emotions flicker across his face. He changes from hope, to joy, to something so intense I don’t even have a word for it. He leans in to my face and turns his head so that his mouth is right next to my ear. “Of course I want you.” He whispers. His breath leaves a trail of goosebumps as it brushes against my neck and back. Then he crashes his lips to mine. I’ve never been kissed like this before. Arlen starts out possessive, demanding in his kiss, causing my knees to buckle. He holds me upright in his arms. Then the kiss turns slow, passionate, and reverent. He kisses me like I really am the last girl on Earth. Arlen leaves my mouth to pepper kisses along my jawline and down my neck. He pulls away and we look at each other, both breathing heavily. “I’m guessing you’re not comfortable going much further.” My face heats in embarrassment over my inexperience. Arlen grins in amusement. “That’s all you have to say.” I let out a little breath in relief. Even though I enjoyed that, it was getting very intense. I hadn’t wanted to go any further, but I felt like I didn’t have control over my body. Arlen places his hand over my stomach. I look at him questioningly. “Do you think you’re pregnant?” He asks. I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know. I don’t feel any different.” Arlen’s eyes turn dark. “I hope you are.” This catches me completely off guard. “What? I thought you would hate the idea of another man’s child growing inside me.” He removes his hand from my stomach. “Well when you put it like that, yes. But I still hope you’re pregnant because... because for all of the women so far, artificial insemination hasn’t worked. I guess men are affected in ways we can’t see. Their sperm is weaker or something. So if you end up not being pregnant, they’ll move on to... other methods.” I suck in a breath. This is news to me. It’s one thing to have a tube stuck inside you, but it’s an entirely different thing to... I banish the thought out of my head. Arlen sees my fear and pulls me into a hug. “It’s ok.” I breath in his smell and try to forget where I am. In the span of a week, this boy has somehow managed to weasel his way into my heart. And that terrifies me.  
Two days later, I wake up to red stains on my bed. I started my period.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you have any suggestions, comments, or find any plot holes, please let me know! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it :)


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